


the silence isn't quiet (feels like it's getting hard to breathe)

by riverblujay



Series: analogical human au [6]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hospitalization, Mentions of Violence, Multi, TDOR, Trans Roman, Transgender Day of Remembrance, Transphobia, or at least this came to be because of TDOR, violence as a result of transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 10:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16721862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverblujay/pseuds/riverblujay
Summary: roman faces consequences of transphobia. everything turns out alright in the end, though: he has people who love him, and he is trulyalive.





	1. you're broken down and tired

**Author's Note:**

> heed the tags, friends. i wrote this as a kind of catharsis when i wrote bios for my school's tdor ceremony, bc i //needed// someone to have a happy- or at least vaguely happy- ending.

The tense atmosphere was palpable, looming over the room of roughly thirty people like a storm cloud just before the first drop of rain. Not that Logan could blame anyone, really. After all, today’s meeting would likely be one of the heaviest in subject matter of the year. The seriousness that everyone, especially Roman, held with themselves, as the senior helped present a slideshow he and the other officers had put together on the topic of Transgender Day of Remembrance- next Tuesday- was telling.

There hadn’t been enough resources, or people, to put together a full scale ceremony this year. Which was to be expected, Logan supposed. After all, this was only the first year of the club running, and while there had been many successful ventures thus far, the scale of this event in particular would have been much higher than the club would have feasibly been able to achieve. At the present moment, at least. 

So instead of a full ceremony, the officers had instead put together a presentation on the day and its history, particularly notable names, and other information. The totals were astonishingly depressing, especially the numbers from just this past year in Brazil. Logan had had to push down emotions in order to keep his composure. 

Roman and a few other students had occasionally left the room for a few minutes to keep theirs. 

The teacher couldn’t begin to imagine- some of the ages were listed as young as  _ fifteen. _ As in younger than the majority of Logan’s students. He supported them, of course, but the fact remained that he wasn’t trans- indubiously, the effect on him was of a different sort than what Roman and other trans or nonbinary students felt when confronted with all of this information at once.

_ Not to mention putting this together, _ Logan’s brain reminded him.  _ Researching all of this would certainly be draining. _ Next year, he vowed, they would begin earlier and hopefully have enough resources for a more proper ceremony. 

The teacher refocused on what Patton was currently dictating to the students (information and statistics about all the violence that had transpired in Brazil and some other countries over the past year, it seemed). All of the officers knew their parts well, and did it justice. When the time came to a close, Roman gave a final statement.

“Transgender Day of Remembrance obviously holds a close place in my heart. Each year, we hope and hope to eventually eradicate the number of deaths per year- to stop violence against our trans siblings. While that is an important goal to strive for, we are also allowed this day to simply  _ grieve _ , and remember, while still hoping for a better future.” 

Roman’s monologue was met with applause as he said goodbye to the rest of the members, the ever common “see you in two weeks,” repeated amongst the high schoolers. Logan packed up his things as well and set out for his own vehicle. His night passed like normal, if not a little more somber. But the teacher had no idea of what was to come.

 

\---

 

Tuesday: normal. Or so Logan supposed, honestly. There hadn’t been any reason for him to believe it was abnormal. Until he received a message from a certain senior during his plan period.

 

_ Unknown number: um, mr sanders? _

_ Unknown number: this is patton _

_ Unknown number: i got your number from romans phone _

 

_ You: Hello, Patton. Is something wrong? _

 

A few minutes passed in between Logan’s message and the other’s reply, and it was only once he read it that Logan couldn’t believe what was written on his screen.

 

_ Patton: roman is in the hospital. I was able to convince my dad to take me out of school to come see him. he _

_ Patton: he got beat up. and he’s currently unconscious.  _

_ Patton: they think someone tried to stab him, because he’s got scrapes that can’t be explained otherwise _

_ Patton: apparently he was on his way back to his car at the grocery store last night and someone saw the trans patches on his jacket and came after him _

_ Patton: … sorry, i need a moment _

 

_ You: Take all the time that you need, Patton. Thank you for informing me. _

_ You: I’m guessing you have not had the chance to contact either you or Roman’s teachers concerning the situation- would you like me to do so? _

 

_ Patton: if youre willing, it would be much appreciated _

_ Patton: and maybe if you can, you could get remy called out of their class and tell them??  _

_ Patton: i really dont want to just text them this kind of thing, but i dont think id be able to talk on the phone right now _

 

_ You: Of course.  _

_ You: I’ll take care of everything here. I know he can’t technically hear it, but tell Roman to get better soon. _

 

_ Patton: i will _

_ Patton: thank you  _

 

Logan sighed, but nonetheless began composing the required emails- thankfully, he knew which teachers the pair had between the two of them. He made short work of it, giving a mediocre amount of details that was just enough to cover requirements. How much was going to be disclosed, Logan had no idea, so it was better to err on the side of caution. Once he had finished, he was able to request that the last senior of the recently inseparable trio come to his classroom. Exactly what Logan could and would say, he had no idea.

_ This is insane, _ he thought to himself. Sure, this kind of violence could happen anywhere, but Logan supposed one never thinks that violence would affect them so personally until it does. Just yesterday he had been contemplating how impossible it was to imagine this level of violence toward a human being was almost impossible to imagine. And now through some sick twist of fate, Logan had to live with violent transphobia affecting someone he knew well.

A dark thought danced through his mind, and for a moment Logan was petrified.  _ If things had been a little different, _ the bleakest corners suggested,  _ the name  _ Roman Prince _ would have been added to the already too long list of names.  _

It occurred to Logan that he didn’t know anything about Roman’s condition besides the fact that he was unconscious, which wasn’t necessarily a good starting point. A knock on his closed wooden door startled Logan out of his reverie. He wiped his face only to realize he had shed a few tears after those dark thoughts, The teacher cleared his throat. “Come in,” he stated, attempting to keep his voice as neutral as possible. 

“Am I in trouble?” Remy asked, their voice not trembling but still confused. The teacher sighed. “No,” Logan replied. “But-” He took a deep breath. “Patton texted me and wished for me to inform you that Roman is in the hospital.”

The shock on the senior’s face rocked Logan to his core. Remy had turned pale as death, silence reigning throughout the room. 

_ “Qu’est-ce qui c’est passé?”  _ The teen mumbled. Logan knew just enough French to answer them.

“I don’t have all the details,” He said, somber. “From what I understand, Roman was attacked last night after going to the grocery store, and is currently unconscious. I received a message from Patton about it a few minutes ago- perhaps fifteen?- who requested I be the one to inform you. He did not feel like this was something to be relayed over text, and was unable to call you at that time.”

“Yeah,” Remy added, throat warbling slightly. The senior made their way to a desk and collapsed into the chair. “I just… I need a minute.”

“Of course,” Logan replied. Truthfully, he himself likely hadn’t truly processed everything so far- but it was his job to be composed. At least for Remy’s, and later on his other students’, sakes. He couldn’t afford to break down. 

(Logan had a nasty habit of suppressing his emotions. It was something he had had to work through, when he was younger. Even now Logan had to practically fight himself to not default to that as a coping mechanism whenever something went remotely wrong. Logan had gotten better, but- as much as it pained him- he still struggled. Logan was currently forcing himself to take deep and measured breaths, and not let his anger get the best of him.

Anger seemed to be the emotion he lost control of the most, when he was younger.)

Later, when he was home, he could cry at his own futility, cry- whatever. Honesetly, crying and being hugged by his husband sounded really nice at the moment. But for now, all Logan could do was be thankful that the situation wasn’t worse than it was already. 

The teacher made his way over to where Remy sat, pulling out the chair next to them and sitting down himself. Logan was only surprised for a split second when Remy squeezed his hand, but the teacher allowed it and squeezed back, holding back tears as Remy let their own flow. 

“He,” They sniffled. “He didn’t even  _ do _ anything. They just hurt him.”

“I know.”

“And they probably won’t get punished,” Remy continued, “hell, they might not have gotten punished if they  _ had _ managed-” 

Another sharp inhale of breath preceded a heavy sob, and Logan attempted to not be awkward as he moved a hand to the teen’s shoulder, embracing them in a half-hug. “I know, I know, he’s okay,” Logan murmured. “Roman will be fine.”

They turned at him and gave a sad smile. “He’s the reason I even started coming to these meetings. Just… invited me, out of the blue.”

Logan chuckled darkly, bringing both of his hands back to his lap to rest on top of each other. “That sounds about right.”

“I’m glad he’s- well, he’s  _ going _ to be okay, at least. I don’t know what would happen if he wasn’t.”

“Me neither,” the teacher replied. 

The two sat like that for awhile, spanning into lunch. “Are you okay to go to the rest of your classes?” Logan asked quietly, as the time quickly approached the start of the next period. “Or do you want someone to come pick you up?”

They sighed heavily, blowing the air directly into their bangs, which flew upwards. “I’ll be okay, I think,” they said softly. “Plus, it’s not like my mom can get off work. And my dad lives in France.”

“Fair enough,” Logan replied.

Remy hesitated as they began to walk towards the door. “Thank you,” they mumbled, “for telling me.”

“Thank Patton,” Logan stated, but nonetheless waving sadly as the senior left the room. He took a deep breath and looked at his watch- seven minutes before lunch period ended and he would have to actually teach class. Logan took out his phone and quickly shot a text to Virgil.

 

_ You: I’m cancelling office hours today. If I start talking about it I won’t be able to regain my composure before my next class, but something happened. I’m not in any danger. _

_ You: I love you. _

 

_ Love of my life <3: okay _

_ Love of my life <3: ill get the ice cream ready  _

 

Logan rolled his eyes, but slid his phone back in his bag and spent the rest of the time taking many,  _ many _ deep breaths with the hope that it would somehow help. To be fair, they did, a little bit. Logan jumped as the bell signaling the end of the period rang, and attempted to compose himself the best he could.

(Thankfully, Logan had managed to not start crying, so there was no puffiness or evidence that anything was wrong on his face.)

Somehow, he managed to get through his other classes during the afternoon, though he did mention that he was cancelling his office hours for the day (placing a sign, complete with an apology) on the door after the school day was finished for the sake of his morning classes). Finally,  _ finally, _ the day was over and Logan rushed to return home. When he pulled into the driveway, there was Virgil, waiting for him. At this point, Logan could barely hold his tears inside.

He walked somewhat slowly, and when Logan finally reached Virgil he immediately collapsed into him, hugging him as if his own life depended on it. “I love you,” the teacher murmured to his husband. 

“What happened?” Virgil asked seriously. 

“Roman-” Logan managed, voice choked with emotion. “Patton texted me and told me Roman is in the hospital. As in, he was attacked last night.”

“Oh my god,” Virgil whispered. “Oh  _ my god. _ ”

“I don’t know much,” the teacher admitted. “Patton said that he was unconscious. And that the people who attacked him might have tried to stab him.”

“I- oh my- what the  _ fuck _ ?”

“I know.”

Logan hugged Virgil tighter, as if he was the only thing anchoring him to the mortal plane. Virgil hugged back, and he couldn’t hold back his emotions any longer. He started sobbing, letting go of everything that he had managed to hold in during the day. They stood there for a long time, Virgil just holding him as Logan cried. 

Logan was an ugly crier, he knew. By the time he had let everything out, Logan knew that his face was swollen, eyes red, and had cheeks were streaked with tears. Virgil had cried too, the both of them overcome by pure emotion. Sadness. Fear. Incomprehension. Disbelief. 

You never believe something like this can happen to those close to you until it does.


	2. in spite of the ache (i will rise a thousand times again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theres a happy ending i swear

Patton was numb.

_ This isn’t supposed to happen, _ he thought.  _ Not- not here. Not to him. _

All he could do was sit, clutching Roman’s hand as the heart monitor beeped like a metronome to Patton’s sadness. It had been so scary, to get a call from Roman’s mom, that he had been hurt because of ignorant, hateful people. Waiting as his boyfriend was rushed into surgery. Desperately pleading for the best. 

It wasn’t fair. Roman was barely eighteen. Not that anyone deserved such violent consequences of transphobia, but the fact that he had all of his life to live-

_ Stop,  _ Patton commanded himself.  _ Stop thinking like he won’t be okay. Roman will pull through just fine.  _

All the same, his thoughts were irrelevant. Because no matter what, he still was left here; Roman unconscious and just a few hours out of surgery, Patton sitting at his boyfriend’s bedside as Roman’s mother murmured quiet Spanish as she brushed his hair off of his face, Roman’s dad next to her. On the bedside table was a bouquet of flowers that Mr. Sanders and his husband had brought earlier.

(Patton had never seen his teacher’s eyes so red- he wondered how long Mr. Sanders had cried, if he had been able to hold off until the end of the school day. Patton had bawled right away, but he had had the luxury of being in his own room when Roman’s parents called.

He also had a promise from Remy that they would come by as soon as they could, which was a huge comfort to the distressed senior.) 

Time seemed unreal, passing too slow and too fast at the same time, until his daze was disrupted by the French teen’s arrival. 

“Hey,” they said quietly, entering the room. “How is he?” Patton stood and immediately- after gaining a nod of approval- tightly hugged Remy. He stayed there for a few minutes, embracing them and welcoming their solid warmth. Eventually, he untangled himself from the hug and answered their question.

Patton swallowed thickly. “It’s been a few hours since he came out of surgery. He’s going to be okay, but-” he choked out.

“I know,” they finished. “It’s still really scary.” Patton could only nod and rebury himself in Remy’s arms.

“Thank you for coming,” he whispered, so that only they could hear. “I just- thank you. It means a lot.”

“Of course, Pat,” they replied. “I… I love both of you. You know that, right?” 

“Yes,” Patton smiled, a little small and a little sad, but still present on his face. “I know that especially, now,” he remarked. “When Roman wakes up,” He trailed off, “maybe- maybe we could all talk about it? Together?”

Remy returned the small smile that held a hint of sadness. “Yeah,” they said in a soft voice. “I’d like that.” They reached out and took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. And with that, the two teens pulled up chairs next to the hospital bed (well, Remy found one; Patton reclaimed his seat from earlier). 

They sat there for awhile, in silence except for the metronome of Roman’s heartbeat. It wasn’t necessarily a  _ comforting _ sound to Patton, honestly, but it was a reminder that he was  _ alive, _ that he was breathing, that he was going to be okay. Maybe not that moment, maybe not for a few weeks at least, but eventually Roman would recover. Which was something that Patton was reminding himself he could celebrate. 

At some point, Patton’s dad forced him to go home- to shower, sleep in his own bed, eat something that wasn’t coffee or cafeteria food. Which the teen supposed was understandable. He gave Remy one last hug before leaving the somber room, and met his dad in the hallway where he had waited after announcing his presence to the room’s occupants. On the drive home, it was a few minutes before his father broke the silence.

“Roman will be okay, right?”

Patton swallowed. “Yeah, at some point. It’ll be awhile before he can go back to school, though. Which I guess is probably obvious.”

“Hm,” his dad remarked before continuing after a beat of silence. “I know that you won’t want to go back to school tomorrow, but if Roman wakes up will you consider going on Thursday?”

“Mr. Sanders emailed my teachers.”

“Okay,” his dad replied. “But I’d still prefer you not miss too many days. If nothing changes, I’ll say the last day you can miss is Friday.”

Patton shrugged. “That’s fair, I guess. I might be able to do Friday, even. Thank you for letting me even miss any school.”

“Some things are more important,” he told Patton, which he didn’t really know how to respond to. Instead, he hummed his agreement and the car fell back into silence. When the two finally arrived home, Patton was greeted by his two dogs. “Hey,” he mumbled. Somehow they seemed to pick up on his melancholy mood, showering him with more affection than usual. 

(Some were surprised at the fact that Patton’s two dogs were pit bulls, but those people clearly didn’t know what they were talking about. Daisy and Lola were two of the sweetest and friendliest dogs  _ ever, _ and everyone that believed in the stereotypes were just plain wrong. Pit bulls were only aggressive if you trained them to behave that way. Patton had adopted them a few years ago, when they were puppies and were in danger due to not being placed in a no-kill shelter. His dogs were giant bundles of love, and he couldn’t imagine having any other ones in their place.

Daisy and Lola had entered his life at crucial time, right around when his mom had passed away. It had been sudden, with no warning, and the two had been his rocks through that difficult period. So anyone that thought that pit bulls were evil and violent no matter what could fight him.)

Patton, at least, was mostly going through the motions as they made dinner. Normally cooking and baking brought him a lot of joy, but right now he wasn’t really feeling a lot of anything. The teen tried to go to bed early that night, after eating and getting ready for bed, but for some reason- even though he was tired- his body didn’t want to sleep. Patton’s brain seemed to be fixated on the image of Roman laying there in the hospital, so unlike his normal and vivacious face. 

He sighed, and attempted to push the thoughts down again as he pulled his covers closer to his body.

 

\---

 

Roman felt groggy, as though his throat was stuffed with cotton and his eyelids weighed a thousand pounds each. 

He somehow managed to let out a small groan, which caused small gasps to erupt around him. There were a few voices whispering, though Roman couldn’t seem to make out the owners of those voices or what they were saying. 

“Shh,  _ mijo, _ ” his  _ mamá  _ murmured. “It’s okay. You are safe.” 

Roman found the strength to open his eyes and found himself on a hospital bed, surrounded by his parents and Patton, all of them with worried- but also relieved?- looks on their faces. “What happened?” the teen croaked, voice (so high, a voice he despised having- starting T had helped deepen it, a little, but he hadn’t been on HRT for very long) gravely and weak.

His boyfriend sniffed, his eyes watering with currently unshed tears. “You… someone attacked you. Monday night. You’ve been unconscious for two days.”

Roman sucked in a breath as the night came back to him; telling them to  _ leave him alone, _ them approaching, trying to fight them off but it was three against one-

“Roman?” Patton asked as he gently took the teen’s hand. His boyfriend’s hand was solid and warm, and helped him fight off the bout of panic. “You’re safe, you’re okay,” Patton whispered to him, rubbing small circles onto his palm. The tears flowed out of him without prompting or control, and all Roman could do was let them fall as his family (and Patton) held him comfortingly.

It was a reality Roman lived with and had to face every day: that there were people in the world who were willing to hurt or kill him just because he existed the way he did. Because he  _ dared _ to exist in a way that they thought was wrong, because trans people were abominations to them. The fact that Roman became nervous when he saw a police car, even though they weren’t coming for him. An anxiety that had been quelled a little but would likely now flare up any time he walked through a parking lot. That Roman could  _ kind of _ pass, but not completely. 

Besides times when people were being obviously cruel, he did get an occasional “ma’am” or “she.” And it sucked, but the good news it was starting to happen less and less. Something like this, though- being attacked for being trans- he existed in this reality, he knew it the way he knew his own name, yet had somehow not expected it to happen to him.

Roman couldn’t find the energy to really talk, so he just lay there contentedly in the presence of his loved ones. It wasn’t long before he passed out again, utterly exhausted from everything that had happened. His dreams were disjointed, more like nightmares in content and effect. It was a few hours later, when he was more conscious and lucid, that he had his next visitor.

“You’re awake,” Roman heard a familiar voice coming from near the door state.

“Yeah,” he replied to Remy, giving a slight nod as well.

His parents were out getting food- Patton was in the room, so it wasn’t like he was alone- at Roman’s urging. They deserved a bit of a break after all he had unintentionally put them through the past few days. His boyfriend waved at the other teen. “Hey.”

Remy nodded in acknowledgement. “I… I don’t know if Patton has had the chance to talk to you about it- honestly, I don’t blame him if he hasn’t- but there was something I kind of wanted to talk about.” Patton winced. “I hadn’t gotten around to it yet. Sorry,” he said.

“You’re fine,” they replied. Roman was a little confused, but he still hadn’t said anything. “Um,” he finally interjected, “what was it Patton was maybe supposed to say?”

The French teen blushed. “It’s kinda stupid,” they mumbled, “but. Um. I want you to know that I- I love you.  _ Both  _ of you. And-” Remy sighed. “Like I said, it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Patton said gently, giving Roman a meaningful look. “I know it’s kinda weird, and a lot to think about, especially since you just woke up a few hours ago, but…” 

Roman paused. He thought about how Remy made both of them laugh, how his and Patton’s dynamic was changed for the better with Remy as a factor, how-

Holy shit, he loved them too, didn’t he?

He bit his lip. “I- I think I love both of you too.” The two smiled at that, Remy and Patton both approaching his bed and each taking a hand.  _ How did I get this lucky? _ Roman thought to himself. To be dating two wonderful people; sure, it was high school, and maybe none of this would last, but Roman was a romantic at heart. He had to believe it would. Because otherwise, what was even the point?

It would take weeks before he would be well enough to truly be considered “recovered,” most likely; even longer before he could return to school. But he was alive, dammit, and he was so,  _ so _ lucky to have people that loved him.

Roman was truly  _ alive, _ and damn if he wouldn’t make the most of it.


End file.
